She couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “Yes, but—”
“But? After all that, there is abut?” he said, pretending indignation.
She laughed. “You know there isn’t. But you didn’t... um.” She blushed.
“I didn’t ‘um’ because I ‘ummed’ several times last night, whereas you hadn’t ‘ummed’ at all. It will get better with practice, and we will both ‘umm’ together, but in the meantime, you needed to find out what ‘umming’ was all about.” He leaned forward and kissed her nose and got out of bed. “Now, I’m off to bathe and shave, and you, my duchess, will have a bath. I’ve ordered hot water to be brought up in twenty minutes.”
George lay back against the pillows. Then her eyes flew open. “The servants are back?”
“Of course. We need bathing and shaving water and breakfast, don’t we? And your luggage and maidservant will have arrived. I told her not to come until this morning.”
George looked at him in dismay. “But if the servants were here this morning”—she pressed her hands against cheeks grown suddenly hot—“they will haveheard.” Shedistinctly remembered someone screaming, and it wasn’t the duke. Her face was hot with embarrassment.
His expression was half smug, half amused. “Then they’d better get used to it.” He picked up his robe and, naked, walked from the room.
***
At breakfast the butler brought in the morning mail. The duke glanced through it quickly, sorting it into piles, then frowned over one particular letter. “Blast. I was hoping we could set off on our honeymoon today.” He glanced at the letter again and then up at her. “I’m afraid Venice will have to wait.”
She didn’t mind that at all. The only time she’d ever been on a boat, she’d been horribly seasick. “Why, what’s the matter?”
“There’s a child—my ward, my late cousin’s son—and he’s disappeared.”
“A child? How old is he?”
“Seven. He was orphaned last year and his father left him and the estate in my hands. I’m to be trustee until the boy turns twenty-one.”
“When did he go missing? Do they have any idea of what might have happened?”
He glanced at the letter. “He was first missed three days ago. They suspect kidnapping, but no ransom note has been received.”
“Three days? And they’ve only just notified you?”
He rolled his eyes. “It will no doubt turn out to be a storm in a teacup, but I’ll have to go there—the boy is my responsibility.”
A storm in a teacup? “Aren’t you worried about him?”
“The boy is probably playing a trick on the servants and is hiding somewhere.”
“For three days? What if he’s unhappy and has run away?”
He gave her a blank look. “Why would he run away? Hehas everything he needs. More to the point, where would he go? Lakeside Cottage is a few miles the other side of Quainton in Bucks. There is nowhere to run to.” He shook his head. “My guess is he’ll be hiding. I did much the same when I was a boy.”
“For three days?”
He nodded. “Yes. You can please yourself what you do while I’m gone—stay here in Everingham House—you might want to talk to Rose and Lily about redecorating it. Or you could return to your uncle’s house, or visit one of your aunts. Whatever you like.”
“Wait in London?” Be set aside like a parcel until he was ready to collect her again? She could imagine the gossip that would arise from that—the duke, abandoning his bride the morning after the wedding. As for redecorating the house... “I’m going with you.”
He frowned. “Are you sure? It’ll probably be quite dull.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I’ll have to leave straightaway. I’d planned to ride. It’s a solid day’s ride from here.”
“Oh, dear, and I’m so awkward on horseback,” she said dryly.
He gave a huff of amusement. “I was thinking of the rain.” He gestured to the window, where rain had just begun to spatter against the glass. “So much for the morning sun.”
